Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters or properties in this story. Drakken, Shego, and any other characters mentioned belong to Disney. I am not earning any money from this story.

The laboratory was nothing like Drakken was used to. Frankly, it was disappointing. The workbench was made of a shiny, black slate. The fume hood made a strange growling noise when on. The sink was tiny. The university promised any chemicals or supplies Drakken could need, but from just looking around, Drakken couldn't help but think GCU couldn't deliver that promise. His chest caved as he sat down at the lab table and he spread a roll of empty blueprint paper out on the table.

He'd texted Shego twenty minutes ago when class ended. And—no surprise—she didn't text him back. When she'd been his sidekick, she never answered his texts or calls. But this time, Drakken couldn't figure out why. Other than breathing the same, smoggy, city air as her, he hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe that was enough for her. Drakken rested his chin on his hands and shut his eyes. It really had been good to see Shego, whatever she thought of him.

He should have ordered her not to leave when he had the chance. Not that he'd ever had particular success ordering her around. It would have been worth a try.

"Sleeping on the job?"

Drakken's eyes shot open and he turned to face Shego. Unlike this morning, she was clad in a familiar green and black jumpsuit. He smiled at her. Then, scowling, said, "It's about time you showed up. You didn't answer my text."

"I got tied up. So sue me." Shego shrugged.

"University policy is very clear about this," said Drakken. "There's a three-strike policy. Consider this strike one, Shego."

He turned to face his blank blueprint paper. He could still feel Shego staring.

"That policy is for students," Shego said. She came to stand behind him, making Drakken's shoulders tense up more. "And you know it. So let's just pretend I was on time and move on, okay?"

"Don't let it happen again," Drakken mumbled. He turned his head to the side. From where he sat, he could see a very poor stitching job run along the midriff of Shego's jumpsuit. He looked up at her. "What happened there?"

"It's nothing," Shego said.

"I knew you were working for a new villain," Drakken said ruefully. "After all this time, I'd think you would have the decency to tell me the truth."

"I'm not— You're so frustrating!" said Shego. "I'm not working for a new villain. I'm not working for any villains. Is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Frankly, yes," Drakken said. "Last I heard, you had dozens of job offers. This university job might just be a ruse to get your hands on one of my brilliant inventions!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Shego said, sitting on the lab table. "Even at your best, I wouldn't call your inventions 'brilliant'."

"Laugh it up, Shego," Drakken snapped, turning his attention back to the blueprint. "But the scientific community begs to differ. I am the brilliantest genius of my generation."

Shego scoffed. "Who told you that? Your mother?"

"Time magazine, actually."

"I think the term they used was "most brilliant scientific visionary", not 'brilliantest genius'," Shego said.

Drakken looked at her, flummoxed. Had she read the article? He'd posed with a few other scientists from around the globe in a studio in Silicon Valley last October. For a month, his face had been everywhere. It wasn't impossible for Shego to have read it. Why did it matter to Drakken that she had? His stomach felt warm and liquid-y. A grin slowly spread across his face.

"Did you-?"

"What did I say about not flattering yourself? I saw the cover at the dentist's office last week." Shego peered over at the blueprints. "So, whatchya got?"

Drakken harrumphed and pressed the blank pages to his chest. "Oh, no. I don't want you running off to tell your new—"

"Cut that out! I'm not working for anybody else! Yeesh!" Shego threw her hands in the air. Then, she bit her lip and her hands fell to her sides. "Would I do that to you?"

"One can never be too careful in the competitive field of science," Drakken said. What he didn't say—in case she told him no to flatter himself a third time—was how relieved he was to hear that she wouldn't work for another mad scientist or villain. Even though it was at odds with her ripped jumpsuit and the times she'd worked for the Seniors and Motor Ed, Shego's professed loyalty meant something. She always did come back. Drakken laid the blank pages down and smoothed them out with his hands.

"This is what we're working with?" Shego asked. "Blank paper? Yikes. How the mighty have fallen."

Drakken's lip curled. "So I haven't been particularly inspired lately. Everyone gets inventor's block."

Shego shook her head. She looked at the blank pages and a frown creased her features. "This is bad."

"You think I don't know that?" Drakken snapped. "I've just been tweaking old inventions for the last three years. It started with the plant potion and then it was the hovercrafts and now—"

"You've run out of ideas."

"Have not!" Drakken said. "I've just… run out of ideas to tweak."

Shego rolled her eyes. "I know you invented more than two things. There's got to be something—"

"Oh, sure. I invented plenty of death rays and laser beams," Drakken said. "But just imagine the implications. Say I use my grant to build a better death ray. What happens to that technology? Do I sell it to the highest bidder? What if the highest bidder is a national military and I inadvertently cause a world war? Or what if it's a private buyer, intent on world conquest, and they use my technology to do what I failed to do? Then what?"

Shego stared at him. And then she began to laugh. She wiped the corner of her eyes and sighed. Drakken groaned.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Ethical… quandaries…" Shego managed to say. Then, shaking her head, she regained composure. "That's what you meant earlier, isn't it?"

Drakken thought. "I guess so."

"Well," Shego said. A wicked looking grin overtook her entire face. "There's only one real way to keep any of your inventions out of the wrong hands."

"You aren't saying what I think you're saying—"

"C'mon, Doc. Don't tell me you don't miss it," Shego said. She nudged him almost playfully.

Drakken chuckled. Of course he missed it: a life of villainy. No laws to follow but the laws of physics. What he didn't say was that he missed Shego, too. Instead, he coughed—hard—as though something was caught in the back of his throat.

"Don't be silly," he said. "I'm a legitimate scientist now. There's nothing to miss about building death rays and killer robots and chemical weapons and—"

"Really?" said Shego. "Coulda fooled me."

"I could get you in a lot of trouble for suggesting that, you know," Drakken said.

"Suggesting what exactly? I didn't suggest anything. You jumped to conclusions."

"Please, Shego. It doesn't take a genius to know what you were thinking," said Drakken.

"Uh-huh. Because you read minds now," Shego said dryly. "Ooh, maybe you should draw blueprints up for that. Mind reading."

"This is a mock-free zone, Shego," said Drakken. "Now if you don't mind, I need to focus."

Shego rolled her eyes and leaned back on the table. Drakken looked at his blank blueprints. His skin went tight and prickly as he did his best not to look over at Shego. He was determined to focus on the task at hand. He squinted, still staring at the blank blueprints.

"Keep glaring at it," Shego murmured, leaning over Drakken's shoulder. "Maybe you'll burn a hole through your blueprints that way."

"GAH!"

"You are so tightly wound," said Shego. "C'mon, Doc. It's the first day of school. It can't have gone that badly—"

"It can't, can it?" Drakken asked, shooting a doleful look her way. "I've been dealing with lippy teenagers all morning. One of the Possible clones called me the laughingstock of the scientific community. The other one said I was losing my touch."

"So? Time magazine called you the—what was it—most visionary what's-it. Why do you care what some college freshmen said about you?"

Drakken's shoulders sagged. In truth, when the Possible clones said it, it only hurt because of their striking resemblance to James Possible. And even then, it didn't hurt for long because of the three strike policy. Two more displays of disrespect and the clone would be out of Drakken's hair. Still—

"What I wouldn't give to vaporize him," Drakken said. "And the whole Possible posse!"

"Tell me about it," Shego said. "That little reunion this morning didn't feel complete without kung fu-ing it out with Kim Possible and her stupid sidekick."

"If only there was some way I could…" Drakken stopped. He looked up at Shego and beamed. "Shego! That's it!"

"I'm sorry. What's it?"

"What I need to do is design a method of eradicating the Possible family from the face of the earth," said Drakken. "It would be a service to the university, to get rid of those clones. I mean, really, if that's how they talk to their professors…"

Drakken began to scribble on the blueprint paper.

"It would save the whole science department a world of trouble," Drakken continued. "If those two are anything like their father at that age, we'll be lucky if the university is still standing by the end of semester. If I could just come up with a way to get them out of the way—quickly, quietly, and in an eco-friendly manner—it would be justifiable. For the greater good, in fact."

"Wait," said Shego. "Since when do you care about the greater good?"

Drakken stopped scribbling. "Oh, come on, Shego. It's publicly funded research. It has to benefit the community, or they'll pull the plug."

"Right." Shego paused. "So what do I do while you plot this one out?"

"What you usually do, I guess."

"Secure the perimeter?" Shego asked. "Because, you know, it's not like there's campus security or anything."

"Mock-free zone," Drakken reminded her. "If you don't have anything constructive to say, you can leave."

Shego slid off the table and began walking toward the door. "Thanks for the permission, Doc. See ya!"

"Shego, wait-!" Drakken called after her. She turned around only to salute him before walking off. Drakken grumbled. "Blast!"

And then he turned back to his work. He had a lot to do between now and tomorrow. But first, he had to come up with a design that he could easily disguise as something innocuous… Something no one would ever suspect as the key to ridding the world of meddlesome Possibles.

"It's a laser," Shego said, looking at the blueprint the next morning.

Drakken stalked across the room to the coffee machine. His office was much smaller than the lab and infinitely more private. Its walls were covered with medals and certificates that were supposed to make him feel accomplished and powerful. Instead, listening to Shego's monotone voice, Drakken felt as if he'd somehow failed her. Truthfully, he'd been fuelled by a strange desire to impress her between the hours of one and six that morning. It was now a quarter past eight and that urge was back. He didn't want her laughing at him, rolling her eyes, and leaving again. Shego had done all of that too many times.

"It's not just a laser," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "It's a solar-powered laser."

"Ooh, wow," Shego said. "That makes all the difference!"

"Of course it makes a difference," said Drakken. He took a sip of his coffee and nearly spit it back out. "This is vile."

"Really?" Shego asked. "The world's "most brilliantest scientist" still haven't mastered the science of coffee making?"

"It's too early for your mockery," Drakken said. "Not all of us got to go home and sleep."

"You think I slept?" Shego asked. "I wish."

Drakken's eyebrow rose high upon his forehead. Shego was the sort to take long vacations to the Mediterranean seaside, but not the type to party on a work night. He tried to imagine her in a nightclub, but found that he didn't know what nightclubs looked like any more. Instead, he conjured an image of Shego from some years ago as the two of them trekked to the Bermuda Triangle for villainous business. He liked the image a little too much to be angry. And then he scowled because he didn't like liking that mental picture. Sleep deprivation must have been playing tricks on him.

"Rough night?" Drakken asked. The bitter tone of jealousy in his voice surprised him. He still hadn't dispelled his suspicions that Shego was working a shady side-job.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Shego told him. Drakken couldn't make heads or tails of her statement, since there were very few things Shego couldn't handle. "So, why a laser?"

Drakken took another swig of coffee and sputtered. It really was vile.

"I don't have class until 11:30," he told her. "Let's get some real coffee and I'll tell you all about my master plan."

"Oh goody," Shego said. "Just what I wanted. A caffeinated rant."

"I'll buy you breakfast," said Drakken. "Shego, please."

"All right, fine," Shego said. "But just so you know, restaurants aren't mock-free zones."

"You call what you've been doing 'mock-free'?!"

Fifteen minutes later, Drakken sat across from Shego inside of a diner on the corner of 60th and Main Street. Outside, ambulance sirens wailed as they zipped to the hospital down the block. Shego had suggested the place, which surprised Drakken. She wasn't a fan of greasy spoons, or at least, she hadn't been when they'd been villains. Now that they were seated outside on the restaurant's patio, level with the street noise, Drakken thought maybe Shego suggested this place because there would at least be something to drown him out. After they ordered, Drakken unfurled his blueprint and laid it on the table for Shego to see.

"If you'll notice," he said. "It's not just any laser. This laser—"

A man in a construction helmet and orange vest began drilling into the road only a few feet away.

"What did you say?" Shego asked. "I can't hear you."

"If the laser works," Drakken said. "It will harness more power from the sun than any current device on the market!"

The racket from the jackhammer was joined by the sounds of construction on a nearby scaffold. Shego said something, but now Drakken couldn't hear her. He pointed to his ear.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" Drakken asked.

"I SAID—" Shego started as an ambulance whipped around the corner, sirens blaring. The construction noise didn't die down - People around them continued to chatter loudly. And then a cellphone ringtone began to play the latest Brittina hit. Shego growled and shot a thin jet of green plasma directly at the phone. It disintegrated in its owners hands. The other diners fell silent. Shego smirked and looked back at Drakken. "I said: how do you know it'll work?"

"THAT'S THE POINT OF EXPERIMENTATION!" Drakken shouted. His ears still rang from the noise. "YOU TRY UNTIL IT WORKS!"

"Tone it down, will ya, Doc?" Shego said. "Also you might want to move your blueprints. Food's here."

Drakken folded his blueprints and put them in his lab-coat pocket. Two huge platters filled with eggs, hash browns, and bacon stretched out in front of him and Shego. Between them were a large carafe of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. It dawned on Drakken as his stomach rumbled that he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. He tucked his napkin into the front of his shirt.

"Now, as I was saying—"

"Nuh-uh," Shego said, holding up a hand. "We aren't talking about work while we eat. I don't wanna lose my appetite."

"Shego, I'm the boss and—" She shot him a look and Drakken sighed. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

Shego shrugged. "Anything but work."

Drakken thought for a moment. His lips twitched to the side. Shego looked at her food and began cutting her eggs so that the yolk ran all over her potatoes. She took a bite and chewed a few times before swallowing. She took three more bites before catching Drakken's eye.

"What?" she asked. Annoyance flickered onto her features, not for the first time that morning. Drakken blinked.

"Nothing! Nothing," he said. Then (bravely, he thought), Drakken asked, "How've you been? It's been a long time."

Shego, who had been lifting her fork to her mouth, stopped midway. She set down the utensil and folded her hands on the table.

"You really wanna know?" she asked, eyeing Drakken suspiciously.

Drakken nodded.

"Better question: Why do you wanna know?"

"Because…" Drakken paused. There hadn't been a single day where he hadn't wondered how she was doing since they'd gone their separate ways. But he'd never questioned why he cared so much. He assumed it was because they'd known each other and worked together and lived together for so long that not having her around was strange. But that didn't account for it now because even though they were together again and he could gauge for himself how she was doing, he still wanted to hear it from her. He wanted to know what she'd been doing for the last three years. If she was happy, if she missed him…

He'd missed her.

"Because…" he said again. "Because I just do. I just want to know how you've been. I haven't seen you or talked to you in three years. Is it so wrong that I want to catch up?"

"Depends," Shego said. "Are you going to use it as a springboard to talk about work again?"

"Nrrrgh! No!" Drakken slammed a fist onto the table. He plucked up his fork and knife and sawed at his eggs with extra ferocity. "I just wanted to know how you were doing. I haven't seen you—haven't talked to you—in three years. It's not unreasonable for me to ask. I've missed you, although right now I don't know why I missed you, since you can't even—won't even—Gah! Just forget it!"

"You missed me?" Shego echoed. She sounded touched for a moment and Drakken nodded. But then, matter-of-factly, she added, "Well, you should have thought about that before you left."

Drakken stared at her blankly. "You left, Shego. I didn't leave. I stayed."

"Yeah, you stayed… In Switzerland!" said Shego.

"They offered me the job of a lifetime!" Drakken protested. "You could have stayed with me, you know."

"And do what? Iron your shirts and keep dinner warm for you?" Shego said. "No thanks, Doc."

"I never asked you to—"

"Forget it," Shego said. "This conversation is over."

"But—"

"Over."

Drakken stabbed his potatoes a few time before shoving a forkful into his mouth. They were somehow salty and bland at the same time. He forced them down with a dry gulp and poured himself some coffee. Shego seemed engrossed in mixing her potatoes and eggs together until they were a soppy, yellow mess. Drakken turned to his coffee and added sugar and milk to it until it turned a caramel color. Then he took another sip. Compared to the coffee in his office, this stuff was ambrosial. Shego had taken him to the best coffee in the city. He smiled at her.

"What now?" Shego asked.

"The coffee is good," Drakken said. "That's all."

"Oh."

"How is your food?"

"Same as yours," Shego said. Then, she started to laugh. "Listen to us. We sound like teenagers on the world's worst first date."

"Date?"

"Don't get any ideas," Shego told him. "I just meant that we're making terrible, awkward small talk. This isn't a date."

"I know this isn't a date, thank you," said Drakken. "And even if it was it still wouldn't be the world's worst."

"Oh really?" Shego cocked an eyebrow. "Since when do you know about dates?"

"I've got game, Shego!" Drakken said. "I'll have you know I went on a few first dates in the last three years."

"With real women or with robot women?"

"Real women," Drakken said. Then, shuddering, he muttered, "Not robot women. Never again."

Shego tilted her head. "You went on dates in the last three years? Real dates?"

"Yes!" said Drakken. "And believe me, if this was a first date—which it isn't—there is no way it could be worse than going out with a woman who laughs at all your jokes and who takes interest in your work all night long, but when you make it to the lab you realize she's from Fermilab and that she only wants you for your gravitomic technology…"

Shego started to laugh. Drakken's ears flushed purple.

"You dated a geek-spy?" asked Shego. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm just saying, that's the worst scenario I can imagine," Drakken said. Although it really was a pity that Dr. Ormond turned out to be a spy; Drakken never heard the end of it from the other scientists at CERN. "Use your imagination, Shego. There are worse men you could be on a not-date with."

"Yeah, like your cousin," Shego said, grimacing. "Motor Ed doesn't know we're working together, right?"

"He's in prison," Drakken said. "So unless someone busts him out—or Mother bails him—we shouldn't have to worry about him. Why? Please tell me you didn't give in and go out with him."

"Ew, no." Shego shuddered. "You said to imagine the worst guy I could. So I did."

"Fair." Drakken took a bite. Was Shego seeing anyone now? He couldn't help but be relieved that she wasn't seeing Eddie. Not that Shego had ever shown an iota of interest in him, but a lot of things could change in three years. It would have killed him if Eddie had somehow charmed Shego. He swallowed. "Are you…? Erm… Maybe I shouldn't ask."

"Smart idea," Shego said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, but now Drakken was curious. A burning sensation inched up his torso and into his chest cavity. His heart pounded furiously; maybe this was what a heart attack felt like. Drakken poured himself some orange juice and gulped it down. His pulse still ticked away under his skin.

"You aren't seeing anyone, are you?" The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. Drakken reached up and covered his mouth. From behind his fingers, he mumbled, "I mean, if you are… I just… work… don't want it to interfere…"

"You couldn't go a whole hour without bringing up work," said Shego.

That hadn't been what Drakken meant. Now his stomach felt funny, but at least Shego wasn't threatening him.

"That doesn't answer my question," Drakken grumbled. Shego didn't respond. "I just meant… Well, I remember some of the guys you dated when we were still villains. They weren't exactly prizes."

"Who are you to judge?" Shego looked up. "You dated DNAmy."

"I did not date DNAmy."

"Oh, no, that's right," said Shego. "She was dating Monkey Fist. You just mooned after her for a week…"

"I did not moon," Drakken said. "I merely admired her genetic brilliance. She was a pawn in my plan for world conquest."

"Uh-huh," Shego said. "Kinda how you were a pawn for Fermi-Lady?"

"That's enough about me," Drakken said with a wave of his hand.

"I never thought you'd say that," said Shego. "Who are you and what did you do to Doctor Drakken?"

"Very funny. Just answer me this," Drakken said wearily. "Is there anyone in your life—romantic or otherwise—who might give us problems?"

"Just my do-gooder brothers and Possible," Shego said, crossing her arms. "There. Happy?"

Drakken nodded. And to his surprise, he really was happy. Giddy, in fact. A goofy grin spread across his face. The burning sensation in his chest felt… glow-y. He couldn't explain it.

"This will be just like old times."

"Yeah, you, me, and a doomsday device that may or may not blow us up," said Shego. "Just like the good, old days."

Even though Shego was mocking him, Drakken laughed.

"Give or take a couple dozen henchmen," he agreed.

"What ever happened to them?"

"Don't know; don't care," Drakken said with a shrug. "I wrote at least thirty letters of recommendation for the bunch of them and I didn't get one thank you card in return."

Shego made a noncommittal noise before draining her coffee mug. "You ready for the check?"

Drakken reached for his wallet. Instead, he found only his blueprints and keys to his lab. The other pocket was empty. He chuckled nervously.

"Don't tell me you forgot your wallet," Shego said.

"Of course I didn't!" Drakken said, checking his pants' pockets. Nothing but lint. "I just—"

"Forgot your wallet," Shego finished for him. "Oy vey…"

"Did not! I just…!" Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, Drakken said, "I just thought it would be appropriate to celebrate our reunion by doing what we do best."

Shego stared at him blankly.

"Stealing, Shego," Drakken whispered.

She grinned. "You mean what I do best. You used to send me in to do your dirty work, remember?"

"I forget the details," Drakken said. "So… Does dining and dashing sound good?"

"Works for me," Shego said.

By the time the waiter came with the check, Shego and Drakken were three blocks away, laughing. The glowing feeling spread to his fingers and toes. And as they stood on the corner of 63rd and Maple, Drakken felt unconditionally happy for the first time in months. Maybe this time, his plan would work, after all. And maybe this time, Shego would stay.

Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to thank my beta, Eunice, for her lightning-fast turn around time on this chapter. Secondly, I'd like to thank my friends Rachel and Manda for serving as unofficial editors and helpers this week. Rachel, I thank you most especially since you have to live with my writer's block and Drakken-esque rants between chapters... despite being new to the fandom. Your support in this pipe dream of mine means the world to me. Last, but certainly not least, I'd like to thank those of you who have been reviewing and following this story. I am truly humbled by your enthusiasm. That said, I'd like to address a few things:

To the person who titled their review "heyy": Thank you for compliments and close reading! To answer your question briefly: yes, I love D/S as a ship/couple. To answer it at length, they were the first pairing I ever supported in any fandom. This story- as it progresses- will contain more than mere "hints" of D/S, since it is a romance. In fact, as far as I can see, all my stories featuring Drakken and Shego will have at the very least undercurrents of romance between them.

To all anons: Please leave some sort of consistent name in the title line of your reviews- particularly if you have questions. I love to talk to my reviewers. You don't have to leave any contact info or anything like that. Just a name (or a sequence of numbers, or a username, whatever floats your boat) so I have something to call you in Author's Notes besides "anon".

To all reviewers, followers, and invisa-fans: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the rest of this story. Reviews are not only appreciated, but treasured in my book. Feel free to leave feedback or PM me!